


Cas' Bad Timing

by LustDemonRosier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bottom Dean, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:38:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustDemonRosier/pseuds/LustDemonRosier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Season 4. Cas pops in on the Winchesters to share the latest intel on the breaking of the seals. Appearing unannounced comes with some unexpected consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cas' Bad Timing

**Author's Note:**

> First time sharing any of my works. Thanks to Viveca for being the best beta reader I could ever wish for. Thanks as always to the show's creators for making such a great story and being supportive of the fanfiction community.

Castiel had what his human companions considered to be bad timing. This was not the first time he had appeared unexpectedly in the midst of, or sometimes even causing, an uncomfortable situation for the Winchesters. It was the first time he had inadvertently popped in on either of the brothers in such a compromising position though. With the Apocalypse looming dangerously close on the horizon, Cas had given human sexual relations less thought than normal, which was to say hardly any consideration at all. Winchester privacy in the bedroom therefore was fairly low on his list of concerns, especially when he had a lead on the next seal that Lilith and her demonic cronies were plotting to tear down. As soon as he made the discovery his first and only thought was to get to the brothers. He knew the sleazy motel room where he could find them. He had been there earlier today with its sickly green walls, paint chipping, and everything smelling like sour milk and stale cigarette smoke, reporting to Dean and Sam that he would let them know as soon as he found anything. So eager to share the information, the angel had not even considered the late hour. Protecting the seals took priority over human needs like sleep and he knew the Winchesters would understand, would even be angry if he foolishly withheld the information even for a couple hours until a more appropriate hour. But as he silently slipped through space and into the grungy room, ready to rouse the boys from sleep if need be to tell them what he had learned, his victorious declaration of his discovery was ripped from his throat by the sight in front of him.

The room was dark but for a few pallid rays of orange colored light from the neon sign of the motel filtering through the cheap threadbare curtains. The angel's mouth hung open, the name of the elder Winchester on his tongue when he heard someone else moan it in his stead, low and gravelly. In an instant his eyes locked on the writhing shape on the bed farthest from the door where Cas stood. Squinting his eyes, the angel wordlessly untangled the scene in his mind: two people on the bed and neither shape was wearing clothing as far as he could tell. The smaller of the two had its back pressed again the larger figure's chest. Following the droplets of sweat on the body in front, glistening pale orange in the faint light from the neon sign, up the clenching tight abs to the roll of his sturdy chest, Castiel barely discerned the anti-possession tattoo over his heart. He could tell, somehow, even in the meager light that it was Dean, his head thrown back over the bigger figure's shoulder, exposing his stubbled neck and the sharp line of his jaw as he sighed and rolled his hips. All Cas could make out of the larger figure was a mop of messy dark hair as his face pressed into Dean's neck and a pair of long legs, holding Dean's shorter pair spread wide. Sam, the angel realized numbly. The younger Winchester bucked his hips against his brother's bare ass with a primal grunt and Cas didn't know whether to keep watching or disappear or make his presence known. As though his vessel was no longer his to control, he just stood there staring speechlessly.

“Harder, Sammy,” moaned Dean breathlessly as Sam sucked on his brother's throat, tongue slipping out and over his adam's apple. Clenching his jaw, Cas turned his wide eyed gaze to the space where Dean and Sam were pressed together. The younger withdrew his hard cock, just the tip still enveloped in his brother's tight warmth and Castiel could see the pulsing member shining slick. One of Sam's big hands crept up his brother's chest, a long finger rubbing back and forth over a hardening nipple while his other hand pressed on the small of Dean's back, preventing him from slamming himself back down on his brother's teasing dick. Dean whimpered and rolled his hips pathetically. It was too dark to actually see but Cas knew the boys well enough to sense when Sam was smirking wickedly at Dean.

“Look at you,” Sam sneered. “Begging for baby brother's dick. You're such a slut, Dean.”

“Shut up,” grumbled Dean, pressing uselessly against Sam's restraining hand. Sam made a happy noise deep in his chest and gave Dean's nipple a pinch. The angel sucked hard on his bottom lip to keep from gasping. He wanted to be disgusted at the whole scene but he couldn't help imaging what it would feel like to have Dean spread on top of him like that.

“I like this position,” cooed the younger Winchester, agile fingers slowly working Dean's nub as the older brother wriggled in frustration. 

“C'mon, Sammy,” Dean whined and the peeping angel wanted to add his pleas to Dean's efforts. He knew he should leave but tearing himself away was impossible. Until now, human urges did not have much sway over Castiel, not in this vessel or any of the scores of others he had inhabited in his timeless existence. Like so many other flesh sensations, like hunger or thirst or tiredness, his vessel had on occasion become aroused, but the feeling was easily ignored like the others, like swatting a fly buzzing by his head. This was different, he realized watching the Winchesters' more than brotherly display and feeling his own cock throbbing hard with a need he had never experienced before. He gritted his teeth and slowly, soundlessly slid his hand over the jutting bulge in his slacks, swallowing a gasp before it could make a noise that would disrupt the brothers. A warm electric current shot through his dick and up his abdomen as he palmed himself silently through his pants. All of the angel's world had been reduced from the endlessness of his Father's Creation to the narrow scope of electric pulse between his vessel's legs and a panting, sweaty act of incest on a filthy motel bed with a cheap, stained floral bedspread. He didn't care if he was losing his Grace, or why he even came here in the first place because right now this was the most incredible, tingling, suffocating, breath-taking feeling he'd ever experienced. Dean was repeating his brother's name pleadingly, bonelessly needy for release and Castiel was gripping himself through his pants, rubbing himself like a horny teenager, the back of his head leaning against the door as he tried not to moan Dean's name.

“So needy,” Sam whispered. “Gonna make you come so hard for me.” Both of Sam's massive hands were gripping his brother's wiggling hips now and Sam was right: Dean looked like such a needy slut. Then Sam thrust up, his hands pressing Dean down, sinking his hard-on to the hilt in Dean's ass. Dean cried out, sounding half in pain and half in ecstasy, as Sam pounded into him mercilessly. Castiel felt like his heart was going to explode in his chest as it pumped faster and faster, nearly in time with his amateurish strokes. Sam slipped a hand down between Dean's legs, gripping his brother's shaft and stroking in time with the thrusts of his hips.

“Ugh, Sammy,” Dean gasped, “gonna come.”

“Yeah, baby,” growled the younger into his brother's unshaved neck. “Love how you get off on your baby brother's big dick.” The angel watched as Sam pulled and squeezed his brother's cock like an expert until Dean was moaning and painting his own chest and stomach with streaks of hot white spunk. Cas gripped himself, struggling not to cry out as he felt his own release explode like dynamite, making a sticky mess of his pants. Sam followed Dean over the edge, making enough noise as he spilled into his brother's ass that any sound Castiel may have made was certainly drowned out. Betwixt some unintelligent murmurs of affection between the Winchesters, Cas removed his sweat soaked hand from his softening member and squeezed it into a fist as he tried to remember why he had come (no pun intended) in the first place. A queasiness settled over him as he watched Sam's long fingers trailing through the sticky mess on Dean's stomach. Dean tucked his head under Sam's chin, slumping heavily against Sam's sweat slick muscular body. The room reeked of sex and sweat and ashtrays, making Castiel's head spin. Whatever he had intended to tell the brothers could wait until he collected his thoughts. And found clean pants. With a rustle of feathers, he disappeared from the room.

Sam turned his head lazily at the sound, unsure if he had actually heard it, before grinning to himself and planting a soft kiss on Dean's temple.


End file.
